Hey friends. This is a true story and I think it's rockin, cause it was fun at the time. So kick back, smoke a bowl if you got it, and enjoy. Feedback welcome! My address is barefooter420@yahoo.com.
It wasn't easy to come home to the states after spending a year in Australia. I had graduated from college and decided not to dive into the workforce but spend a year abroad working, and Australia turned out to be paradise. The job was cool -- it was basically just teaching music lessons to little brats - but it was the location that I loved the most.
First of all, I got to experience an entire year of summer. Living in the northeast for all those childhood years was more than enough for me, and I wanted sun and heat in January for a change. Plus, I got to spend all that time by the beach. I grew up on the shore, but it's not the same; surf and sand down under is just different. And the guys were hotter than I had ever seen -hotter than at home, hotter than at college, hotter than anywhere else on earth.
I'm in a pretty nice position myself, I gotta say. 22, a solid 6'3" with a toned bod. Brown eyes, light brown shaggy hair, all that good stuff. I swam all through high school and for a bit in college -- I was never that great but it kept me in good shape that I pretty much maintain. I know girls dig me, but that doesn't do anybody much good. "Seth's a hottie," they'd say, teasing me, in earshot. "Seth is one hot property." Maybe they all figured I had a girl at home. Nah - truth is, Seth goes in strictly for cock. Not a lot of people know it, but I always managed to have fun at school when I needed it.
But Australia was cool in another way; where I was, people were totally cool with going barefoot all the time. This is pretty clutch to me, since I'm a dedicated barefooter. Go barefoot whenever and wherever I can. Not totally sexual, I don't think, I just gotta have that feeling of earth on my soles. It's kind of a lifestyle choice. And Down Under was well suited for that lifestyle. I'd wear sandals to school and anywhere else I had to, but otherwise I was barefootin all the time.
I even met another hot barefooter while I was down there, a few months before the end of my stay, and we became real close fuckbuds. We were real in tune sexually - totally on the same wavelength. We would smoke a ton of weed, give each other long slow head, have awesome buttsex on his couch, my kitchen table, his bud's basement. Got off together 3 or 4 times a week, and even chilled on the beach or drank together or otherwise had a good time even without the sex. But fuck, the sex was hot. We busted so many loads in each other's butts you probably couldn't tell whose cum was whose after a few weeks. One time we even took a weekend and went bushwalking - barefoot of course, which was a pretty awesome experience - and had some real porno-style sex in the great outdoors the whole weekend. As long as I live I'll never forget lyin on my back in the sand next to some secluded watering hole, lookin up at his face - masculine, angular, tight buzzed brown hair, dark eyes - his arms outstretch, hands on my shoulders - my heels tucked under his armpits, my toes curlin - seein the way he smiled wide as he plowed his bare cock deep into me.
But, that was then. Leaving Dan and his hot Aussie cock behind was tough. When I got home, a job prospect in San Diego waiting for me in September, I knew I was going to have a couple of fuckin boring months. I could go to bars with high school friends - big deal - and veg out at the beach all day. And I could stay barefoot pretty much 24/7. But I knew it would be slow goin for a while.
While I was in college a new family moved in next door to my house; I had met them but I can't say I knew them. I had, however, seen their teenaged son out skateboarding with his buddies almost every day of every vacation at home. The summer after Australia was no different. By this point the kid was probably 17. I think my Mom mentioned he was a junior in high school, and according to her he was a "real good kid." I saw him all the time and would exchange quick "hey"s with him, and that was as deep as it got. And I never really wanted to make friends with him or his baggy-pants buddies, who would spend hours in front of my house videotaping themselves trying (and failing) to do tricks with their skateboards and screaming "holy crap, that was almost a triple!"
A few days after I got home, I heard them shouting as usual in front of my house. I glanced out the window and saw four of them in the street trying out some move. But the one who caught my attention was standing on the curb at the edge of my lawn. Tall - maybe 6'1. Shaggy blond hair. The looks of a good upper bod under a tight white t shirt. Ratty old cargo pants, frayed at the ankles. And he was barefoot.
Even in my area, a 10 minute walk from the beach, the most stereotypical surfer dudes still wear shoes just to go down the walkway and get the mail. Dudes like these would wear oversized vans or soap shoes that look like they weigh 20 pounds. But this kid was unself-consciously barefoot, and seemed comfortable with it; he did tricks on the boards (better than his friends) and walked all over the street and surrounding yards without flinching. I didn't think that much about it at the moment; but every now and then I'd glance out and think "cool, he's not wearing shoes." Also, "and he's pretty hot." The next morning I was sitting in the living room reading when I noticed him walking his bike in front of my house, toward his buddy's place. He was wearing a different t shirt and long board shorts, and once again he was barefoot. The neighbor kid came out - dressed similarly, but wearing those clunky vans - and they biked toward the beach. I went to the beach later but didn't see them. That same evening, while the air was still thick and the sun was still hanging low, I saw the kid again; this time, he had on a polo shirt with the logo of a pizza joint by the beach, and I figured he must work there. He had on those ratty cargos again, but this time he had a pair of beat up old sneakers slung over his shoulder. He was walking barefoot. This confirmed it in my mind; the kid was a barefooter.
So I decided I had to talk to him. Dunno why. Could have been cause I was still kinda high from the bowl I had smoked earlier that afternoon. He went in next door for maybe 20 minutes; then the two of them came out and talked on the driveway for about five minutes. They knocked fists and the hottie walked down the drive toward the street. I figured I had a chance, and headed toward the front door. I wasn't thinking about hooking up with him, but I couldn't help thinking that if he was into cock, he'd want me pretty bad. I was real tanned, wearin worn out old cargos of my own and a tight white t shirt. And of course, I was barefoot, my tanned, dusty feet contrasting sharply with the rough white pavement of my front walk.
I hit the mailbox just as he walked by my driveway, approaching me. Up close, this kid was real hot. He had that perfect look of a 17 year old who could be 20; sharp facial features, strong jaw, bright blue eyes and a shaggy mop of blond hair to match my shaggy mop of brown. His tan skin looked so hot against the blue of his shirt, and his dirty bare feet moved steadily through the gravel of the roadside. We were probably 8 feet from each other. I smiled and said "hey" as I feigned checking for mail.
"Hey," he replied, also smiling, but a little unsure. I didn't really know what to do. He was walking steadily toward me. Unsure myself, I added "what's up?" "Not much." "You work at Pistol Pete's?" I asked, referring to the name of the beachside pizza joint scrawled on his shirt. "Yeah, you know it?" "Sure," I said, "I know Pete's daughter, we were really good friends."
Actually, I barely knew her, but I gave head to her boyfriend after a party when they were both home from UNC for Thanksgiving break freshman year. "Cool. Pete's a cool guy," the kid replied. He had stopped. Score. "Yeah, he's pretty cool. He let you work barefoot?" The kid smiled. "Nah, I gotta wear shoes at work. I wish I didn't have to. It's the only reason I got to wear shoes all summer." "Yeah man, I know what you mean. I stay barefoot like 24/7." "That's cool," he replied. Then he added, obviously going out on a limb, "Are you, like, a full-time barefooter?" "Sure am dude," I replied, the boner in my cargos getting stiffer and stiffer.
"Nice man, nice." He extended his hand. "I'm Rick." "Hey Rick," I replied, shaking his hand, "I'm Seth."
We stood there in the dimming light for a good 5 minutes talking about barefooting, the beach, the usual stuff. I told him about my time in Australia (although I left out the part about all the buttsex). I could barely pay attention to the conversation; I was really taking him in, up and down. The natural tints in his hair. The tight hemp necklace around his neck. His big hands and long fingers. His tough feet. I thought I was gonna bust a nut just standin there. Finally I said "whereabouts do you live?"
"Just around the corner," he replied, "we should chill sometime." Wow, I didn't even have to say it. "Definitely," I replied. "Do you, uh, puff?" "Yeah dude," came Rick's eager reply. He smiled real wide, like I had just let him in on a big secret. This kid was definitely 17. He added, "it's hard as shit to get around here." Score again. I had tons.
"Hey Rick, have you ever been to Redd's Woods?" I asked, referring to a huge county park a couple miles inland. It was a favorite spot of mine in summer, a gigantic wooded area with some untraveled trails that could be completely empty even on the nicest summer days. I used to go exploring in there when I was in high school, find a good stump to sit down on, and beat off to my heart's content. In case you couldn't figure it out, I like doin it outside.
"I went there once or twice with my dad," he replied, "maybe when I was 10." "Oh man!" I said, "you should check it out, it's a chill place where you can just go and get lost and whatever. We should check it out, do you have a bike?" He nodded. "Cuz it's only about 15 minutes away by bike." "That sounds fun, I am down! You aren't free, like, tomorrow by any chance? Tuesday is my only day totally off." And score a third time.
"Tomorrow works for me man. You wanna swing by here? Maybe early, like around 9? I'll roll a coupla J's and we can head over there, chill out, get our feet dirty." He smiled again, that big wide smile. I probably wouldn't be able to contain myself.
So the next morning I hauled outta bed at about 8:45. My parents both work for the county and their office is a ways away so they're gone by 7:30. I stepped into the same old cargos I had stepped out of the night before. I probably would have put on the same white t-shirt but it musta been under the bed, cuz the only thing I saw on the floor was a faded old blue one with the name of the hardware store downtown. I slipped it on and headed down to the kitchen to roll some j's. Now, this is not my strong suit so it took a couple minutes and by the time I was done Rick had just parked his bike on my lawn. I saw him coming up the lawn so I went to the door to meet him.
"What's up Seth?" he called as he came toward the porch. He had on an old white cross country tshirt from the high school and a pair of really faded brown chinos, with very frayed bottoms. He was barefoot, of course. Soon we were cruising down one of those smooth country roads. Tuesday mid-morning, no cars to bother us. As we rode side by side, I took one of the joints out of my pocket and handed it to him. "Do the honors?" I said as I also fished out ol' blue, my trustee lighter. He held the joint and I lit it for him, not missing a beat on our bikes. He took a long slow drag and handed me the joint, as I swapped him the lighter. He held it in for a while before blowing a nice big cloud right into my face. We both laughed. "Watch it there kid!" I said, jokingly. We continued back and forth til the joint was spent.
"So Rick," I said, "what turned you on to barefooting?"
"Actually it was the cross country coach."
"Not Mr. Tarver?" I asked, referring to the 70-year-old math teacher who had done the job forever.
"Nah, we actually got this assistant coach my sophomore year . . . Mr. Spanner, Craig, ... I guess you'd have been gone a while. He's cool, way younger, like 30? Anyway he runs barefoot, cuz he says it's better for you, he didn't actually make anyone else do it and most of the kids on the team were like, no way - and they got these $150 running shoes that mold to your foot exactly and 'simulate being barefoot' or some shit. But I was like, hey I'll try it, and I liked it. And I liked the feeling so much that I started going barefoot more."
"This is when, like, a year ago?"
"More, a year and a half. Mr. Spanner doesn't really go barefoot other than running, and when he found out I was like walking barefoot everywhere I think he thought it was funny. But, y'know, whatever. I brought flip flops to school to wear inside and I'm careful 'bout causing problems like in stores and whatever, but otherwise if it's warmer than 60 I don't wear shoes."
I saw a lot of myself in this kid, I'll admit. We got to a side entrance to the park and rode into the parking lot. As I thought, two ranger cars and no one else. "This is great Seth" he says, as we park our bikes in a small empty rack on the lot. By now I'm riding a pretty mellow buzz, and I can tell Rick is pretty stoned. He's talking a lot, real unselfconscious. He asked me a ton of questions about college, what it was like to do whatever I wanted. Now, I had kind of taken a turn for the lazy in college like no one else. I hated doing laundry so I pretty much stopped; I quit wearing underwear freshman year and never looked back, and I only wore socks when it was cold. I told him how I went more than a week without showering a couple times, and how almost every day I rolled out of bed naked, pulled on pants and grabbed a shirt off the floor, and just headed on out to class. No one ever really challenged my bare feet, even when they were black. Rick obviously thought this was the coolest thing he had ever heard.
We were heading down one of the many paths into the middle of the leafy woods. The sun felt good on my face and I was enjoying the rich colors of the park. Being high really heightens my senses, but I guess that's not unique right? We walked along for a while in silence, taking in the weather and the warmth and in general enjoying ourselves. After a good 10 minutes we came to a small clearing with one of those big old oak trees that has roots sticking way up out of the ground. I went over and sat on it, and Rick joined me. We made some stoned comments about the green of the trees and the wonder of nature and all that crap but mostly we sat in contented silence. Before long, I took out the other joint. Rick smiled and started chuckling, and leaned over practically onto me.
"What?" I asked him.
"Nothing man," he laughed. "I'm pretty high is all."
I smiled in return. "Yeah this is a good combo, a nice day and a nice buzz, right?" He nodded and answered "yeah, a nice buzz and a buddy to share it with."
I put the joint back in my pocket. "Yeah," I replied, "there are a few really good combinations with a nice buzz. A cold beer, a bag of cookies."
"Nachos and cheese and Cartoon Network." He was sitting pretty close by now.
I laughed and replied "some good tunes."
"A round of halo," he went on.
"Some really excellent head," I continued. He chuckled. "Some excellent head, no doubt." He thought another second, then said "of course, I wouldn't know."
"Aww, really? That's too bad!" I chucked back. "Never gotten head huh."
"nope!" he said with a grin. "I mean, I've given it a couple times but never received."
I was still quite stoned at this point so it's not like this comment hit me like a ton of bricks. Mostly I just thought "hey, niiiice!" In face, I think I just looked at him and actually said "hey, niiice!" He just kept laughing. I said what the hell and asked him, "any chance you'd go down on me?" He kept on grinning, and reached slowly over to my crotch. He felt my swelling bone through my cargos and rubbed it a little. "yeah," I went on, "that's a good combo indeed." I stood up in front of him and unzipped my fly, real casual-like. He just got up onto his knees and reached into my pants, pulling out my now-hard pole, and before I know what's what I have some serious throat on that dick.
I looked down at his head bobbin to and fro like that and I could just thing, "wow." I put both hands on the back of his head to steady the rhythm -- I was sure as hell gonna make this last. While he was down deep on me for a few seconds I pulled my shirt up over my head and tossed it on the ground. He let my cock out of his gullet and pulled back for a second. He looked up and gave me that same shit-eating grin. "Good idea," he said, and pulled off his own tshirt. In nothing flat he was back on my rod and I had to steady his tempo again with my hands on his head. He was very receptive, and I loved it.
If someone had walked by on a lower path at this point, they would have seen two dudes -- kids really -- each in nothing but a dirty pair of khakis, one on his knees, and one standing up enjoying a serious blow job. I mean, I don't think anyone came by, but if they did they had the decency not to interrupt.
After a few minutes I gently pulled his head away and crouched down to his level. I rubbed his hard cock through his chinos for a bit, then unbuttoned and unzipped him. I slowly pushed him onto his back, and pulled his pants off. No underwear -- very cool. I kept on massaging his dick and he was clearly enjoyin it, and he leaned back into the grass. I stood up momentarily to yank off my own pants, then I was down on my knees in front of him, between his outstretched legs, watching him beat his meat slowly.
Really at this point, how could I resist? I leaned into him, picking his ankles up and getting them onto my shoulders, holding him firmly by the knees. My rod, now about as hard as a rod can be, was leaking some massive precum, which I slathered around a bit. I very, very slowly poked my head toward his hole -- he gasped a little but kept on smiling. I spread his cheeks with my hand to get solid aim, and gently -- gently -- eased it a little bit inside. He gasped again -- then again, loudly. I stopped -- but stayed that half inch inside - and grabbed his dick for a minute. Then I leaned over him, til we were about face to face and his legs were pretty much around my waist.
"Hey Rick," I said, casually."
"ohhhh...yeah?"
"Tell me about your first time with a dude."
"Really?" he said, breathing hard, still getting used to the feeling. I replied "yeah, I'm curious," and slid just a little bit deeper inside. He was relaxing more but was definitely still tense. "Okay, it was (shallow grunt) the cross-country coach (quieter grunt)." "Old man Tarver?" I almost cracked up but kept my eye contact locked. "Naw naw man!" he laughed, his face breaking into a big smile but then turning into a wince as I eased in another half inch of my pole. "(grunt, gasp) it was the assistant coach, Mr. Spanner, Craig, he was (sudden gasp and sigh) uh the assistant last year like I said... I gave him head a few times this spring."
Even though I hadn't seen this Spanner guy, the idea was so hot I was getting even more boned than before. "Tell me about it Rick, that sounds awesome!"
"Well it was ... April I think or May ... and me he'd been my coach for like, over a year, y'know?" He was breathing easier, biting his lip just a little as I slid even further in, getting halfway to the hilt. "He was a cool guy and a good coach, and this never even crossed my mind until that month. We had gone for a run one morning, he lives near the school and I used to meet him for barefoot runs on the tracks on weekends, right?" I eased another half inch inside him. A low moan (oooohhh), and he continued.
"So this one morning its really warm, and we go around the track and we happen to talk about this girl he had been seeing. (ooohhh yeah nnnggg...) Well like, not just a girl, the secretary in the middle school, so everyone knew about it. And he mentions he just broke up and hasn't gotten any play in a while. We would like, josh about this, cause, y'know its what happens, like on a team. So he says he hasn't gotten off in 2 weeks. Hah hah, like, we laugh it off. (mmm . . . sigh) and then... he says he needs something in his office, why don't I come on in for a minute, whatever. So we go into the gym offices to his room, he sits down to get into a drawer, and I'm leaning on the doorway. So it's Saturday, right, and no one's around." I can obviously tell what's coming and the thought of it was actually enough to send me almost to busting nut -- luckily I held it in. I mean, I was only half way inside Rick's butt and I wasn't about to stop now.
Rick continued. "so . . . (ohhh) it's Saturday, and he's sitting there, and gets what he needs, some paper, and puts it on the desk. And he's looking at me, right, and his other hand is by his crotch. I notice it and like . . . chuckle. He looks at me, then at his crotch, then squeezes his dick a little. It's just getting hard, I can just tell. Then I realize I'm hard and actually leaking a little precum through my gym shorts. I was embarrassed at first (gasp ah slow slow...) and then I see him grab his dick a little more. So the next thing I know I'm on my knees and he takes his dick out his shorts and I'm goin down on it like it's my job man! He's not totally hard yet so I can really ... ahh ahh ... really throat it . . . and he's got his hands on my head and his feet are flexed around the legs of the chair and he's just pumping my throat man, like pumping it, and he does this for like five minutes and my throat is open for him, and real quiet he gasps "im cumming" and then he shoots and I swallowed his cum Seth, it was so hot."
"and this was really your first time?" I said immediately, my dick aching to slide all the way in. "You've never been fucked before, or anything?" He answered "no, never, I sucked him off like 5 times, pretty much like that, and that's all I've ever done."'
"so this is your first fuck? I'm taking your cherry?"
"yeah," he gasped.
"well," I said, smiling my own shit-eating grin. "Congrats man, I hope you enjoy it!" and with that I pushed my cock balls deep inside his now-relaxed hole. "aaaaAAaaah" he moaned immediately, but I stayed inside him, straightened my back, and held his feet like a pair of parallel bars. I pulled out just a little and then started humping him, just going to town, fucking his ass quick and light-like. He moaned and squirmed and his toes were curling like crazy but he never said stop. I took my strokes out further and in deeper, but he was obviously getting used to the feeling. I leaned down all the way, grabbed his head, and kissed him deep. To my surprise he kissed back enthusiastically -- dunno why but I thought he wouldn't be so into it. After making out with him for a couple minutes as I gently thrusted inside him, he pulled away and put his mouth to my ear. He breathed heavily a few times then said, decisively, simply, "fuck me."
That's all I needed to hear, I guess. I pulled all the way out of his ass and slammed it back in, not real hard, but hard enough to make him really yelp. I was poundin him now, in that great drill position where he's half up off the ground and im goin into him kinda from above . . . I get so hot just looking back on it. I throw it in there like that for a good couple of minutes, and I start moaning like "yeah . . . yeah . . ." kinda quiet. And he starts doing it too. So before long we're alternating like "yeah" "yeah" "yeah" "yeah" and I'm looking right into his eyes and it's amazing. I couldn't really hold back much longer so I just grunted a little and said "I'm gonna cum, dude." Then I just lost it, I fired a real rocket into his ass. I hadn't cum in about three days, which is a while for me especially in summer, so it was big. I shot a few ropes into him then just gasped and leaned back a little.
I heard him grunt and I realized I had to help a brother out, so I batted his hand away from his cock and jacked it myself, while my hard-on held steady in his hole. I just rubbed up and down about five times when he rolls his eyes back and smiles real wide as a jet of jizz shoots up. After a second a real thick, goopy wad of cum just busted out, shot about a foot into the air, it was great! He was on cloud 9, I could tell. A couple more small shots of juice came out and he was well-spent.
It had all ended up on his upper chest. I was still leaning back, his ass basically resting on my thighs, my legs folded under me. I slowly, gently moved my legs out and around him, careful not to let my cock slip out. Soon his legs came off my shoulders and down around me, and we were intertwined, my piece still fairly deep inside him, still partially hard. I leaned in and took a big lick of the biggest pool of thick cum that was slowly dripping down his chest. It was bitter and strong, a good taste. My Aussie bud Dan would have cum that tasted like that if he hadn't shot in a couple days.
I licked most of the cum off his chest before he leaned in to kiss me. He could probably taste himself in my mouth . . . if he knew what himself tasted like. I assumed he did. With a load that thick, who could resist?
We sat like that for maybe five minutes before I said "we should probably move along, somebody might come by," with a chuckle. He nodded, content.
TO BE CONTINUED....